Mafitalia
by R5 is my life
Summary: Palermo, Italy 1932: The rain fell into Lovino's eyes, washing away the blood as he stumbled along the dirty, stained cobblestoned alleyway...


Title: Mafitalia

Summary: Palermo, Italy 1932: The rain fell into Lovino's eyes, washing away the blood as he stumbled along the dirty, stained cobblestoned alleyway...

Rating: T

Chapter 1

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Palermo, Italy 1932: The rain fell into Lovino's eyes, washing away the blood as he stumbled along the dirty, stained cobblestoned alleyway. He turned the corner and entered a hidden door on his left towards the end of the alley, near the street. As he walked in he heard the sounds laughter and his senses were doused the with the overpowering scent of alcohol. He brushed across the room and headed towards the bar. He nodded at the bar tender who nodded back, allowing the Italian into the back kitchen. When he entered the kitchen, Lovino found his partner, a tall,dark Spaniard. "Que pasa?" his partner asked casually as he fiddled with something in his hands, then looked up at Lovino, shocked at his bruises, "The hell happened?"

Lovino, ignoring his question, walked through their maze of an apartment to a bathroom to tend to his wound, Antonio anxiously followed him, "Vino, what happened? Who clipped you? Where's Feli? You have th-"

"The damn bastard didn't show up," Lovino hissed, "I was there all by myself." He winced as he touched the cut underneath his right eye.

"So Feliciano didn't show up? I wonder why, he's alright, no?" Antonio thought.

"I'm sure he's fine! he's probably runin' around a damn field chasin' damn butterflies right now!" Lovino exclaimed. He finished his eye as best he could, and took off his blood spattered and sweat soaked shirt and tossed it aside. "And cause of him I had to deal with all those bastards by myself," he sighed, " I can't put up with Feliciano's crap anymore."

Antonio paused for a second then said, "Vino, I don't think you should keep doing this, you keep getting hurt. I don't even know what this is."

"Does it matter how I make it, what matters is it's here," Lovino grinned as reached in his pants pocket and tossed a wad of hundred euros at Antonio. The Spaniard's eyes widened as he caught the wad.

"Vino... I didn't know there would be so much."

Lovino scoffed, "You are so dramatic bastardo pomodoro! I got a whole G. This is why my brother is such an idiot for not showing when he is supposed to! We need people that can actually get the job done, eh!?" The Italian slammed his fist on the countertop making Antonio flinch slightly.

"I know you are worried about Feliciano", he said, "after all he is your younger brother." The angry Italian paused for a moment, and the Spaniard thought he saw Lovino's eyes soften to worry for a moment, but then they quickly changed back to their usual cold, harsh darkness.

"No", he grimaced. "I'm sure he is just fine. After all, he knows how to take care of himself", he whispered. He walked over to a wooden chair sat down and lit a cigarette.

A fairly tall, light haired man with pale skin, walked in with silent footsteps from the hall. He wore dress pants and a matching pinstripe button down vest, no shirt underneath. His face was covered with a grin, when he saw Lovino his red eyes lit up and he walked over to him and patted him on the shoulder, "Your back! How'd it go?"

Lovino flinched at the mans touch and sighed, "Swimmingly, just swimmingly,"

"Ah, well that's good." As he grinned you could see a small fang which made him very vampire like. He pulled out a deck of cards and they flew through his hands as he shuffled, "How about a game?"

Lovino rolled his eyes.

"No? Well suit yourself," he turned to the Spaniard, "How bout you Tonio, pick a card any card?" The light haired man spread the cards flat, waiting.

"Now's not the best time, Vladimir," Antonio sighed, "You've seen Feli?"

"Thought he was with you," His eyebrows inched together, he seemed surprised, but not worried.

Lovino took this opportunity to sulk into one of the back rooms. He got to the grimy office and flopped into the worn leather chair.

He noticed some documents that had not been there this morning. They were cut outs of newspaper articles. He leaned closer to get a better look. They were articles about crime that occurred within the past couple of months, bad incidents that Lovino had been involved in. The police would be searching for him. But no one could know it was actually him. Right?

He grabbed a crumpled, white dress shirt from the corner of the room. Buttoning it up he felt another presence in the room.

Worry ran up and down Lovino. Recently he and his friends have been committing crimes in order to get along. He only stole what money he needed well, maybe a little extra but where else is he suppose to get money from? It wasn't fair, he couldn't find a job and even if he did he wouldn't make half as much as he is does now. And how else was he suppose to protect and provide for Felicano? He couldn't trust that the potato loving bastard to watch after his younger brother.

He stood there trying to think of a possible explanation that didn't involve him. Nope, there was no other explanation. He was caught. Maybe he could at least trick Antonio. If he finds out I'm dead.

"Was it successful?" A voice came from behind interrupting his thoughts- an all too familiar voice- one with a thick french accent. The words were mocking and rhetorically accusing of the 17-year-old Italian.

Lovino turned around to see no other than an old friend, Francis Bonnefoy appear from a dark corner. How long has he been there? It didn't matter. He felt some relief knowing it was just Francis, not anyone really important.

"I know what you have been doing Lovino", Francis said and as his face came into the light of the dusty oil lamp the Italian saw the French man wore an expression of disapproval and maybe some sadness. "Why are you doing this Lovi?", he asked, "you are better than this!"

Caught red handed, Lovino paused unsure of what to say. He stood awkwardly for what seemed like an eternity.

Francis waited.

"Don't tell Antonio, por favore", Lovino finally managed to choke out. "He shouldn't... He can't be... involved", the Italian went on shakily. "I-Im only doing it because I have t-."

Francis interrupted him, "Lovi, I know how terrible things have been in Italy lately, but there's got to be another way. I could lend you some money if you need it."

"I don't need your charity, you vino bastardo" Lovino snapped, "Or anyone else's." He got up to leave but the Frenchman blocked his path to the door.

"So instead you steal!" asked Francis, proving his point. He continued to lecture the Italian, but Lovino was distracted by a ruckus in the hall.

"YOU CAN NOT FIGHT AND WIN AGAINST THIS AWESOMENESS, ANTONIO!" Lovino heard a muffled cry through the door and knew by the German accent who it was.

"Let. Me. Through." Antonio was the other voice.

"What are you doing?" Francis saw Lovino wasn't listening and grabbed his shoulder. "Look at me when I'm talking to you. Jezh, does Antonio teach you nothing?" Francis said with uncharacteristic harshness.

As Lovino shook from Francis' grip the door burst open.

"Lovi!", Antonio exclaimed, "What the heck is going on?"

"NO!" shouted Gilbert as he tackled Antonio to the ground.

Francis sighed as the two continued to wrestle. "You were suppose to make sure he didn't come in, imbecile".

"I am awesome don't you dare insult me!... And what the heck is an imbecile?" Gilbert smirked at Francis, still holding Antonio down on the dirty carpet.

"How can you not know what an imbecile is? You imbecile!" Antonio managed to shout from under Gilbert.

"I have better things to do then come up with sucky insults," replied Gilbert.

"You mean like stopping Antonio from coming in?" added France.

"No, I mean awesome things like being awesome!"

"Wow, Gil, I didn't know being awesome takes that much energy. For me it comes naturally." With that Gilbert got up and tackled Francis. Antonio groaned a laugh, his face still buried in the crusty carpet.

Lovino just stood off to the side with his mouth slightly ajar. He snapped back from the slight confusion, then slowly backed out of the room while the trio argued.

As he walked out Lovino bumped into Vladimir, "What was that about?"

"I'll explain it to you on the way", the Italian responded curtly as the two grabbed their coats and loaded themselves with a pistol and knife, then they snuck out into the crowded bar, "Right now we got a job to do."

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A/N: What do you think of it so far? My friends are writing this story and want to know what you think of it so far. Remember, read, review and follow :)

~R5 is my life


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